


Get Use to Disappointment

by Sandalaris



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series, Once Upon a Time (TV), Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV), The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV), Travelers (TV)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Fics I'll never finish, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-01-18 05:40:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12382029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandalaris/pseuds/Sandalaris
Summary: I collection of fics I'll never finish.





	1. Chapter 1

A quick list of what is what because these aren't even all the same fandom, let alone the same theme. 

Note: I use the / for pairings and the & for friendship, anything else is just a list of characters. 

1\. The List  
2\. **OUAT** : Pre-Rumbelle  
3\. **Vampire Diaries, Teen Wolf** crossover: Derek and Caroline  
4\. **From Dusk Til Dawn** : Seth/Kate  
5\. **Travelers** : Rene/Trevor  
6\. **Supernatural** : Gen


	2. She Really is a Funny Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another What If where Rumple made it so Belle got her memories back at Emma's arrival instead of himself for...reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mainly chose not to continue this because a. it's a different style of writing than I'm used to and I wasn't sure I'd be able to do the whole thing in such a way and b. this has been done so many times I wasn't sure my little take on it really added anything.

Emma Swan's arrival spawned many seemingly coincidental occurrences. Unspoken, and therefore unconnected, by the people of Storybrooke. The clock tower began working once more, birthdays seemed to come about in abundance after a rather long dry-spell, expectant mothers experienced the first signs of soon-to-be labor after what felt like years, and Rose French suddenly started insisting people call her Belle. 

"It's my middle name," she'd explain with a secretive smile. 

Moe would open his mouth and then close it, confusion written clear in his eyes. They'd named her Rose Marie after all. 

"Really, papa," she chided when he questioned her on it, "you're getting forgetful in your old age." Then she kissed his confused cheek and flounced out of the shop with a mischievous wink. 

Mr. Gold noticed these things with the air of a man long used to surveying his domain, but even he did not connect them to the arrival of the blonde bounty hunter. Nor did he quite make the leap that these events were in fact related to one another. He had not lived so many years as to notice the patterns written into the very air nor did he have the foresight in order to do so. A pity. 

When Belle, formerly Rose, French stood before him a mere three days after the first newcomer in the residences of Storybrooke's memories arrival, he did not know that this particular event was directly connected to Miss. Swan's presence. If he had perhaps things would have gone very differently. 

"Miss. French," he greets as the young woman steps further into his shop, "how may I be of assistance?" 

Her eyes are wide, and impossibly blue, as she stares at him and he feels something deep within him attempt to tremble at her presence. He stomps it into submission. He will not tremble before a mere girl, tiny and inconsequential. 

"I want to buy the library." She says it with such firmness, such strength he's momentarily taken aback. She's always been quiet and withdrawn, prone to letting her father speak for her. Unnaturally so, he always thought. 

"I did not realize you held reading in such high regard."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Gold is very disappointed that Belle wants to make a deal although he's unsure why. Belle has her own agenda though and getting indebted to a cursed Rumple is part of it. She also doesn't do things behind the scenes so much, so Emma would find herself with a very opinionated helper. And Mr. Gold being boldly presued by a pretty girl he's never spoken to before that day she showed up in his shop. She knows all his tricks though and he's left quite confused. Poor dear.


	3. Derek and Caroline's Excellent Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was written with the vague idea of giving Derek a little adventure with Caroline who would all but make him be her friend (she's good for the broody ones) and then having him head back home to Beacon Hills. Klaus would have shown up at some point to glare and Elijah because he's awesome and if I have an excuse to include him I would. Derek would miss Stiles because I'm Sterek trash, but nothing official would happen on any ship.
> 
> Unbeta'd.

Beacon Hills was not the only hot spot of the supernatural, Derek remembers that from before. Although he never learned the others. Never bothered. Wasn't planning on leaving his birthplace. And even after the fire and running and ending up in fucking New York of all places, following Laura's lead, he picked up what he did because of where she was avoiding. Too small a pack, too weak, would never survive being in another's territory. 

_The lone wolf get's killed, Derek._

But he can't remember New Orleans being on the list. They passed through, he remembers that much, and smelled witch and so they left. But that was near ten years ago and witch covens were typically peaceful if you didn't make waves.

He's so much stronger now. And in much more need of some calm.

Still, he misses his pack, dead and alive. And the not-quite-pack that had accepted him. And the town. The way the way the forest smelled. And even Scott's puppy enthusiasm and Stiles- he just misses it.

But now New Orleans smells of wolf and something dead but not rotting, and the witch smell is all mixed in with strong magic and- well his nose is stronger now. Couldn't even pick out the Other around Deacon to until after he grew into his mother's heritage. 

"Tell me you're not the welcome wagon?"

His gaze snaps up, landing on the young woman who just exited a cab idling by the curb. Her blonde curls are artful managed, her make-up done to make her appear older, and she's wearing heels even on the slippery stones, one arm bent to hold a purse that's large and boxy and color coordinates with her outfit while she's looking at him like she expects an answer.

"The resting murder face alone is not exactly welcoming," she makes air quotes around "welcoming," "and I really expected better after his royal alphaness all but begged me to come by." She turns to the cab, trunk popped open to reveal a matching luggage set. 

She smells of an open grave, of old blood and death. It's not unpleasant. Not decay or rot. Similar to the way Stiles' smell when he tries his hand at magic, but not the same. This scent is her, not on her skin or caught in her hair, but seeping from her very existence.

"Not my alpha," he says, and the woman freezes but only for a moment. Only long enough for him to tell.

"He's not?" she asks carefully, blue eyes watching him and pert nose taking a subtle, delicate sniff in his direction.

"I’m not part," he starts before clearing his throat and starting again. "I'm just visiting for a bit. I'm not part of the local-" he waves his hand in a vague sort of gesture. 

"That's different then," the blonde woman says. She finishes pulling her luggage from the trunk, setting them before her without a strain. Now that she's closer he can smell more of that scent, dirt and old blood. It's scattered throughout the city, concentrated in areas and Derek is painfully aware that there are parts of the supernatural world he is completely ignorant too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not one-hundred percent certain where I was going with this. Something to do with Caroline deciding Derek needed a cheerful friend and Derek staying on the outer edges to all the New Orleans supernatural scene. Slowly, he'd heal, fight Caroline's friendship until finally giving in (she's like a less bitey Erica, and that hurts, but it's good for him too) before going home to his pack. Some others might just follow. :P


	4. The Difference Knowing Makes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FDtD, SethKate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seriously had know idea where I was going with this and then it sort of fizzled. However, I really liked bits and pieces of it.

Kate is seventeen and doesn't know what's happening. 

She was not quite sixteen and with a promise to wait on her finger the first time she kissed Kyle. Her daddy didn't approve of the boy with the too long hair and holes in his jeans. But the Winthrops went to their church and Kyle was such a _good boy_ , even if he did dress like one of them "sex obsessed hippies." 

Kate talked to Momma, and Momma talked to Daddy, and Kate went on a date with a golden-haired boy with Bible verses on his lips and leather on his wrist. 

(And if she finds her attraction dimming slightly when he turns out to be just as pure and chaste as the polished, straight-laced boys she's gone with in the past well, he's still the first boy she ever fell in love with.) 

"Love is always real at sixteen," her momma says with a brush of her fingers over Kate's dark hair. "And your first love holds a special place." 

"Was Daddy not your first love?" 

"He was my true," she says with a secret smile. (This was before she couldn’t hide the pills or the pain or the truth, and Kate believed her because her mother knew everything.) 

She french kissed Kyle in the back of her daddy's church and didn't feel the guilt she should have after. (His hands stayed at her waist and her's at his shoulders and if she wished he'd lowered them that’s her secret.) 

It was as true and pure as it always is at that age. The realest thing she'd ever felt, and she doesn't understand why they call it puppy love when it aches in her chest like heartbreak and leaves her anxious and giddy and wanting more. They say it'll be different later, when she's older and has had a chance to live and learn. She'll love differently and it'll be dissimilar and more there in a way that it isn't as a teenager, but as an adult and all the understanding that comes with higher numbers to her name. 

(She gained them all underground in a matter of hours and didn't even realize it until she's standing alone under the hot morning sun and a law man is offering to take her back to a life she can't fathom anymore.) 

She's not older but this, with a man who is far too old and dark and dangerous, is different than anything she's ever felt. 

She doesn't recognize it until it's too late, can't put a name to the new and steady feeling pulsing in her chest and through her veins until after she's back in her childhood home staring at a photo of her family when it was whole and utterly blind to the truths of the world. She's disillusioned about her parents but she loves them, and her brother is a monster but she still loves him, and Seth pushed her away while she loves him and- 

Her breath catches and her stomach twists into a hard knot and she swings the broom handle. Glass shattering across the floor and a cry catching in her throat. Because she suddenly _knows_ and they were right, it is so very different than anything she's ever experienced and her momma and daddy aren't there. 

Logic says she is far too young but the facts remain harsh and glaring as Kate cries on that kitchen floor in her old home of her old life and mourns the girl she lost when she wasn't looking.

-

 

He's almost thirty and he knows better. 

The thing is, she's still so goddamn pure. Even after everything. Oh, he tried to find dirt. Pushing and pressing and _confessing_ all to try and show that the pretty little preacher's daughter was oh so dirty, not all that different, _not better than him, see, Preacher?_ Teenagers are all hormones and poor impulse control after all. But she proved him wrong, proved herself true. Some tongue-hockey in the back of a church her biggest sin and her daddy's hardly going to look at her differently for it. 

And then all hell broke loose and shitty world just got shittier and he's standing there in the sun watching the preacher's daughter with blood on her hands and dirt on her clothes ask him if he wants company. (Other women have echoed those same words at him, with a promise in their eyes and sex on their lips and he hates himself just a little for wanting to see that on her.) 

"Yeah," he says and then they're in a car and driving into the sunrise like a goddamn western

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably would have added some things about Seth being too f'ed up afterwards to care that he was simultaneously manipulating and lashing out on her before losing her and that being the thing to finally make him hit rock bottom.


	5. Untitled Rene x Trevor drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is technically complete. Except in the way that I meant for it to be just a beginning.

Falling in love with Trevor was like getting caught in a tornado, a whirlwind of excitement and affection that left her winded but thrilled. He was excitement and energy and he lit a fire in her veins with just a look. 

God did she love him. 

It was a rush just being around him. The flush of new love, her mother called it, and Rene couldn’t help but believe her ( _which is terrifying, because she knows the statistics, knows they'll end and she can't imagine not loving him forever._ ) 

He asked her out on the last week of the semester, before the change of classes and the limiting of their time together. Trevor Holden, the upperclassman who was always sporting bruises and liked to challenge the other football players in the hall, who made her stomach feel like it was all tied up in knots and be hyper aware of her poor hair days. 

Every night, without fail, his was the last text she'd read. The first one she'd find in the morning that let her know he was thinking of her before he feel asleep. 

When he got hurt, fighting in those stupid cage fights and then not calling her after. When he changed. Or maybe he was always changing and she just didn't realize, and what does that say about her? That she didn’t notice her boyfriend's evolution into the man he's going to be? 

This new Trevor, with his memory gaps and meditating, falling in love with him was like a gentle rain, rising in soft waves and she didn't realize she was drowning until the waters were too far overhead to stop it even if she'd wanted.

 _I was in the middle before I knew I began,_ wasn't that the line? It's never felt more accurate. 

It feels like falling in love with a whole new person. One with steel in his eyes and peace in his heart ( _he's got her sounding like a god damn poet and that's the kicker, she doesn't even care._ ) 

Not so different though, Rene reminds herself. He still has the same zest for life and burning spirit, even if the expression is all changed. 

Gone is the guy who'd sweep her up between classes to play hooky, who'd break into her parent's liquor cabinet in the middle of the day to help her unwind, who wanted to try bungee jumping for his birthday and who was constantly pushing her to _live._ And in his place is the man she can see him becoming. One who marvels over every bit of plant life he comes across, who quotes philosophers and rappers alike, who calls her out when she's at her bitchiest, and who isn't afraid of anything. Before, Rene is beginning to realize, Trevor was. And maybe that's what changed, maybe he lost that fear, doesn't need to challenge the world to prove he's strong enough to survive. 

Trevor's rooted himself inside her. Where he used to pick her up in the swirling force of his life, pulling her along like a head first dive over a skyscraper now he's inside, latched onto her very soul and claimed in that calm way of his and she'll never be free. 

Rene loves Trevor, fell for him four weeks after their first date. Fell again when he showed her how to meditate in the park. 

She's not sure he loves her anymore though. 


	6. A Man's World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's cliché in a way that's almost not surprising: Dean's knocked-up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not at all my usual. I'm not particularly into Mpreg* (nothing against it, just not my cup of tea) but have read a few and had this thought just sort of swimming around my head. 
> 
> *I find the idea of a Mpreg interesting, but the baby at the end annoying. What can I say? I'm weird.
> 
> Definite consent warnings, but it's all pre-story.

In all their years of hunting, Sam and Dean have only dealt with succubus twice, and the first was mainly Dad identifying it and making his boys stay in the car while he went after it, armed with every weapon in his arsenal and a prayer.

"This isn't exactly my fault," Dean mutters from his place at the kitchen table, flipping one of the useless books before him into one of the many piles along Bobby's wall and Sam hopes that's where it goes because he doesn't want to get bitched at for messing up the older hunter's system. Again.

"Really?" Sam snipes, because it's better than the panic that's threatening to overwhelm him. "You getting reckless and having unprotected sex is someone else's fault?"

In all honestly Sam can't completely blame Dean. All of his brother's one-night stands are locals in whatever town they're in who Dean makes a point of buying one holy-water laced drink for; a long ingrained rule. (Which had led to a bit of trouble for Sam in college when a girl he'd been seeing claimed it can't be _that easy_ to spike a drink and Sam's off hand reply that "me and my bother used to do it all the time.")

"Hey," Dean snaps back, and they're still bickering so Sam decides that he doesn't have to back off just yet. "I was kidnapped. And drugged. There was no consent given."

Sam jerks his head slightly, eyebrows coming up as he leans against the counter and stares at his brother. "So what? You were raped?" He smiles at his brother, letting a teasing note enter his voice and takes a moment to feel the unease and disgust at the idea that they can joke about this.

Dean pauses, head titled to the side as he considers it. "Yeah." He nods as he speaks, leaning back in his chair as he get settles on the idea. "I was roofied. Couldn't say no." He points a finger at Sam, smirk falling into place. "Don't blame the victim."

"If you boys are done with your little flirt fest, than can I get back to trying to find a solution to the problem?"

Sending one last half hearted glare, Sam tries to look repentant as he nods to Bobby. This is all new territory, the usual protocol for a succubus victim being have sex and die, and the fact that Dean's alive after apparently screwing one of the things (his inquires of "are you sure?" having been met with snippy "I think I know when I'm having sex") has thrown them both of the brothers for a loop.

They were lucky; Bobby knew a guy who owned a hand-written account of an apparent survivor. (Turns out that it's written by a man who spoke to a man who survived a night with a succubus, but beggars can't be choosers.)

"Now," Bobby says gruffly, eyes going back to the book in his hands, "it says 'ere that Patient X," the older man's disgust at the name is apparent, "was kept alive for breeding."

A mixture of alarm and confusion shoots through Sam, and he shares a look with Dean, seeing the same unsure worry reflected on his brother's face.

"Are you saying that she was trying to get pregnant?" Sam says in alarm, and feels his own little rush of unease at the thought that they may have accidentally killed his brother's unborn kid. His own niece or nephew. For all that family isn't blood doesn't mean blood isn't family.

There's a long pause as the older hunter reads on a bit, scanning the page before turning back to the one before. Bobby shifts uncomfortably before he clears his throat, making a sound like that of a half strangled cough before he glances up and back down quickly. "Not exactly. It's-uh" he squints at the page before blowing out a rough breath, "the males. Who carry...who carry the baby."

"You've gotta be shittin' me," snorts Dean after a long pause. He lets out another guffaw, one hand coming up to rub at his mouth before he looks at Bobby again. "I'm not knocked up." He states it so simply, like it's the most ridiculous thing in the world and Sam wants to laugh too, because it is. Only he can't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably would have completely deleted this file, but there's so much I like it in, even after all these years. However, it's never going to be finished.


End file.
